17

                                    

                                          
•
                          
I know now. 
                          
I now understand why no one seems to notice him as a mannequin, or notice him as a human when he stands behind the glass display, or why his parents are not looking for him. 
                          
An hour ago, we saw an image and a writing on the wall that shimmered under the few strands of decorative lights that covered the entire store's ceiling. It had shown Jungkook's parents along with something else, and I couldn't make it out what else it was supposed to mean, but I guess the message was only for him as he nodded to himself, and the message on the wall slowly disappeared. 
                          
"God really planned this from the start, huh?" Jungkook tells me suddenly, his voice already ragged and tired since the start of the day. 
                          
Apparently, there were hand-written letters by him sent to nearly everyone associated with him, his home in Busan, and that's obviously without him knowing. 
                          
He didn't write any lettter.
                          
Who knows how that happened. Right now, though, at this timing, he seems too tired to be thinking of anything else, and I can't do much to help him set his mind off this issue either. I wish I could take a load off his shoulders and carry them myself instead, but God knows he's the one to overcome this himself.
                          
He probably could not get any sleep, since he stands back in the display himself and turns into a mannequin whenever night falls. I throw to him a packet of eyemasks that I retrieve from my bag. It is something essential for resting during day time if you hadn't gotten much sleep.
                          
"Thanks," He mumbles to me, putting down the papers he have read from earlier as he rubs on his temples, while examining the item.
                          
I shrug mindlessly. There is something I have to ask him, but would he answer me?
                          
"Uh, Jungkook..." I begin.
                          
"You know I can feel your emotions, right? You seem nervous and bothered right now." He stops what he's doing, and stares at my direction. 
                          
"You...?" I ask, wide-eyed. "Oh, that means no privacy for me, huh."
                          
"Sorry, can't help it," He returns a small smile, before reaching out to tuck some hair behind my ear. I am certain I tied my hair up properly, though. "So? Tell me what's wrong."
                          
I sigh in response, resulting in him frowning. "Jungkook-ah, I might have to move soon." 
                          
"Huh?"
                          
"I don't know where I'll be going next, but I'd definitely visit you more often and help you with this, until you turn into a full human again."
                          
"What the heck are you talking about?" He asks cluelessly, tilting his head to a side.
                          
He doesn't need to know. 
                          
As long as Seventh Street isn't affected, I'll be fine.
                          
I shake my head once, "Anyway. I know this is not my first time asking but- are you okay?"
                          
His sudden grim expression tells me everything.
                          
Well, I am scared as of this moment. I don't want to destroy whatever we have, or make everything worse by spoiling his mood. Yet, I have to make my point through, so I ain't backing out.
                          
"Do you... Want to talk? About yourself?" I ask nicely, still keeping the eye contact with him. I don't know, but I really want him to confide to me. Share to me his past, get rid of this barrier between us. I don't want just work, or just a mannequin-lifesaver relationship or something, between us.
                          
I'm selfish to say I want something more.
                          
Jungkook averts his gaze to my hands that are clenched up due to excessive worrying for his sake, and he unfolds my fist and interlock his fingers around mines instead.
                          
"Jane, I don't want you to worry about me, okay? I need you happy so I can feel a little bit more better myself."
                          
"But you can't always keep emotions to yourself-" 
                          
"I can," He cuts me off boldly, his next words coming off as whispers. "Because I'm not a complete human, yet." 
                          
A strong wave of frustration comes over me. "Then what about me? Have you thought of how I would feel?" I exclaim, pulling my hands away. 
                          
"I want to help you so badly right now, but coming to think of it, you seemed to have built up a wall around yourself. You seem to know my history, everything about me, but I don't know a single thing about you! Have you thought of me?"
                          
His lips parted, a hand reaching out to my face. I turn my head away to avoid his touch, only then to realize a tear has rolled down my cheeks. 
                          
Nothing but the awkward sound of the heater working fills the air. Before I know it, my silent breaths has turned to sorrowful, ugly sobs. 
                          
Unwanted memories are rushing back to me. 
                          
My parents' faces. Unconscious, bleeding...
                          
Make it stop.
                          
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He whispers, then cuddling me between his arms. My face meets with his hardened chest, and I sit comfortably in his muscular arms.
                          
I can faintly hear his heartbeat. It beats on a rhythmic pace, something I can hear for hours and probably not get bored of. 
                          
He keeps me in that position, and after some time, my breathing returns to normal. He pats me on my back, swinging our bodies front and back.
                          
I take in his scent, though I won't say it smells like cinnamon or anything nice, but my eyes slowly closes into small slits, and eventually, shut. I never liked sleeping that much, but in his embrace, I can take it. I will take it, gladly.
                          
"I just... don't want you to be pained and pity me by listening to my stupid life story."
                          
He continues, just as I fall asleep in his hold, "If only you can feel my heart aching for you."
                          
•
                          
omo i wish kookie could hug me like that too waaaaah T~T